Page 30 of All That We Are Together

I understood her not wanting to spend more time with me than necessary, but it burned. I put my hands in my pockets and followed her down the sidewalk. We walked in silence for a few more streets until we reached an old building. It looked like it was only three stories. Leah took her keys out and opened the door. There wasn’t an elevator, so we took the stairs, and immediately I noticed the scent of paint. When we were at the top, that smell invaded everything. I took a deep breath; it brought back memories: her father Douglas, her, my forgotten dreams, a whole life concentrated in something I couldn’t even see.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” Leah said, picking up empty tubes and rags off the ground.

I didn’t respond; I was too busy trying to take in everything around me. Leah pulled away when I stepped toward the row of paintings leaning against one wall. I don’t know if it was her, the sloping roof, the wood floor, or the torrent of color all round, but that attic had me spellbound. I shivered as I looked into everycorner, noticing the strength of all those works, no matter how different they were, works I assumed she’d painted at different times in her life.

“How much time do you need?”

I turned when I heard her quavering voice.

Leah had sat down in a round black chair in the corner farthest from me. She looked so defenseless that for a few seconds, I saw in her that same little girl I’d watched grow up. I smiled to put her at ease.

“It’s a long process; I need to evaluate each piece individually and divide them up according to style, but like I said, I can come back another day.”

“No, it’s fine, I just…wanted to get an idea.”

I nodded, hoping that wasn’t all, because I still remembered back when she was so excited to show me everything and let me be part of her process. How far away it all was. How things change.

I spent a bit more time getting a general sense of what was there, and I had goose bumps, because for some reason this was even more intimate than if I’d undressed her there in the middle of the attic. I could see her. I could find pain in the blotches of paint, the unsaid words, the emotions in each line, the confusion, hope, courage, glimpses of time past, murmurs of what was then to come…

I held my breath and stood there in the middle of the room, my head almost touching the ceiling. In that moment of stillness, I noticed a canvas tucked into the lowest corner. And I felt inexplicably drawn to it.

“Axel, no…”

But I didn’t listen to her. I couldn’t; what I felt, my emotions then, were so powerful that I could take in nothing else. Entering that studio had been like a blow, and all at once I knew what Leah had been during those three years of absence, and I could embrace each instant when we hadn’t been together through these traces she’d left behind…

I didn’t stop till I reached the picture.

And when I picked it up to look at it, it took my breath away.

It was us…our bit of sea.

I almost burst into tears like a little boy. I knelt down on the ground and ran my hands over the sky, feeling the layers of paint, the places where she’d corrected her vision. I wanted to scratch the surface and see what lay below it, what her very first version was… Because what I had in front of my eyes was a sky of purple and blue, dark, intense. A storm. I asked myself if that was what Leah felt like when she remembered what we were, and I hated that possibility, because for me she was still a clear blue sky…the most beautiful sky in the world.

Fuck. My hands were quivering. I put the canvas aside and stood up slowly. As I turned around, I felt a pang in my stomach.

There Leah was, in the middle of the attic, staring at me while the tears slid down her cheeks, and I… Something in me broke just then. My heart seemed ready to jump out of my chest. With its every beat, I took a step forward, coming closer to her. I didn’t know if she’d pull away when I touched her, whether she’d push me or just stay there motionless, but I couldn’t suppress the impulse crying out to me to feel her again…

I hugged her. I hugged her so tight, I was worried I’d hurt her.

And, as always, Leah surprised me, hugging back, passing her arms behind my neck, doing none of the things I’d predicted in the second just before. I pressed my head into her shoulder, and she pushed into my chest and let a brief sob escape her while her body quaked… I wanted to melt into her. Take her pain away. I closed my eyes, feeling so much, feeling her so much. I asked myself how long I could stand being there and holding her, breathing against the skin of her neck. I didn’t know a hug could be more than a kiss, more than any declaration, more than sex, more than everything. But this one was.

I stroked her hair with one hand, not letting her go.

“It’s okay, babe, relax…”

“I hated you so much…” she whispered, leaning her forehead into my sternum. My knees were shaking. I took a deep breath. “Just as much as I missed you.”

A warm sensation shook me. I wasn’t ready to let her go, I focused on the feeling of her hair, her body’s curves melding with mine as if she were reclaiming her shelter. We were a mirror. A perfect, ephemeral mirror.

When I realized that, I slowly pulled away from her. Before she could turn around or run away, I brought her back close, wiped her eyes with my thumbs, my fingers. I held her face in my hands so she would look at me.

“I want to make this easy for you, Leah. I know we’ve got baggage, but if you let me back into your life, I promise I’ll try and make sure you don’t regret it. Babe…” I moaned when she tried to look away, and stroked her cheek with the palm of my hand. “I won’t ask you for anything you don’t want to give me.”

Her eyes gleamed with tears.

“Why now? Why did you come back?”

“Because the day Oliver told me you were going to show your work, I knew I’d die if I couldn’t witness it. I had to be here, Leah. I didn’t want to fuck up your night, but I had to see. Anyway, it was going to happen sooner or later, you know that.”